


Truth Be Told

by RocknVaughn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e10 The Moment of Truth, Gen, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocknVaughn/pseuds/RocknVaughn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments before the battle that will make or break Ealdor, Merlin decides he must tell his friend Arthur about his magic. This time, they are not interrupted before he can make his confession. </p>
<p>This story is the aftermath of that decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

-o-o-

_“I’d trust Arthur with my life,” Merlin told his friend, trying to make him understand._

_Will looked back at him, incredulous. “Is that so? So, he knows your secret then?”_

_Merlin’s guilty face immediately broadcasted the answer to his oldest friend._

_Will shook his head with something resembling pity. “Look, face it, Merlin. You’re living a lie…just like you were here. You’re Arthur’s servant, nothing more. Otherwise, you’d tell him the truth.”_

-o-o-

That conversation had haunted Merlin since the day they’d arrived in Ealdor.  As much as it was Merlin’s biggest fear: that he was wrong about Arthur; that he was nothing more than just a servant to him, he didn’t want to believe it.

Despite the difference in their stations, Merlin had felt the camaraderie and the mutual respect build between them in the nine months he’d served the Prince of Camelot. Arthur may not have been good at showing his emotions, but Merlin truly believed he cared, that they were friends.

And friends told friends the truth.

This was the time. As terrified as he was, Merlin couldn’t go into this battle without telling Arthur about his magic. It was a risk, but a calculated one. If nothing else, it was a tactical advantage; Arthur needed to know.  He'd already admitted that they could use all the help they could get.

Merlin swallowed the around the huge lump in his throat. “Whatever happens out there today, please don’t think any differently of me…” he pleaded.

“I won’t.” Arthur gave Merlin a small, empathetic smile. “It’s all right to be scared, Merlin.”

Solemn blue eyes met blue. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What is it?” Arthur asked him curiously. “If you’ve got something to say, now’s the time to say it…” He nodded toward Merlin in encouragement.

"You must understand, Arthur…” Merlin let out a shuddery sigh before he continued, “I have to do anything… _anything_  I can to save my mother, my friends…I can’t let them die.”

Arthur nodded perfunctorily. “Of course, Merlin. I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”

Merlin had imagined this moment every day for months, but he couldn’t believe the time had actually come to reveal his secret. His heart thrummed wildly in his chest, making him feel curiously lightheaded.

“Including this…” Merlin croaked, putting a hand out in front of him.

He whispered the words, “ _Fromum feohgiftum_ ,” and a glowing ball of blue light hovered in his palm, rolling and swirling for a moment before it rose and hovered in the air between them.

The glow from the enchanted light reflected off of Arthur’s stunned features: his mouth gaped open, his eyes over-wide. “You…” he gasped in shock. “It was  _you_? But…how?”

“I…” Merlin stumbled for the words he needed to explain, “I don’t know how I did it, Arthur. I don’t know how I knew you were in trouble. I just did. I was unconscious, but Gaius said I called out for you and then I made  _this_  appear…”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed and his face became shuttered. “You’re a sorcerer!” he hissed, taking a step backward, away from the comfort of the azure sphere.

Seeing the look he most dreaded on Arthur’s face made Merlin’s naïve hope shrivel in his chest.  _Will was right. He was never Arthur’s friend; he was nothing to the Prince of Camelot. Why would he be?_

Merlin sighed wearily and his shoulders slumped as if he were suddenly carrying a terrible weight. “No, Arthur. I’m not a sorcerer; I’m a warlock.”

Arthur’s hand slid surreptitiously to the handle of his sword. “And what does  _that_  mean?” he demanded warily.

Merlin noticed the movement and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. “It means I was  _born_  with magic. I never went out and sought it; I’ve always had it whether I  _wanted_  it or not.”

This piece of news startled and confused Arthur. Magic was supposed to be a choice…an  _evil_  choice. There were no exceptions to that rule. That’s what he’d always been taught, had always believed.

But now Merlin— _Merlin_ , of all people—had magic? He knew it was true…the evidence still floated in the air before him. But Merlin,  _evil_? Merlin, who hated the mere  _thought_  of hunting fluffy creatures. Merlin, who in the past year had already saved his life twice; three times if you counted the blue orb that had guided him to safety in the Caves of Balor. How were  _those_  the actions of an evil sorcerer?

Supposedly all sorcerers hated the Pendragons, wanted nothing more than to see them dead. Yet, if that were true, Merlin wouldn’t have even had to do magic of his own. All Merlin would have had to do was to let Mary Collins’ dagger hit him instead of dragging him out of the way. Or let him drink from the poisoned cup. Instead, he’d  _protected_  Arthur. Why?

It was like having all the pieces to a puzzle, but somehow they didn’t fit together.

Merlin noticed Arthur’s hesitation and saw it for the opportunity it was. He took a deep breath and blurted out, “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Arthur. I won’t hurt you. I would _never_ hurt you.”  

“I am  _not_  afraid of you!” Even though Arthur looked affronted, the wild glint in his eye gave lie to the words.

“Please, Arthur…just give me a chance…please…” Merlin put his hand out again as if he wanted Arthur to shake it like they had moments ago, before Arthur had known of his secret.

Arthur stared at Merlin’s hand for a long moment, but before Merlin could find out whether the prince _could_ accept him, Morgana burst in, saying, “Arthur, they’ve crossed the riv—…”

Morgana’s voice trailed off into nothingness as her attention was caught by the glowing orb still suspended between Merlin and Arthur. Her eyes first widened in amazement and then narrowed in realization.

Arthur raised his eyes to Merlin’s for a split second, his expression unreadable, before he turned and bolted out the door to warn the others.

Morgana turned her head and walked toward Merlin, as if in a daze. She put out a trembling hand and touched the floating orb, immediately feeling warmth, safety, and something indescribably  _Merlin_  in it before it disappeared like a gossamer web on the wind. Her eyes snapped to his, and she breathed, “Oh, Merlin…” in a voice that was sad, awed, and accepting all at once.

A tear—just one—escaped the confines of Merlin’s watery eyes before he wiped the moisture away with the heel of his hand. Of  _course,_  Morgana would understand…

“Come on, we should go,” she said, placing a hand on Merlin’s forearm.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his throat dry and painful around the word. He grabbed the sword belt from the table in front of him, unsheathed his sword, and then followed Morgana out the door.

-o-o-

“ _Now_ , Morgana! What are you waiting for?” Arthur hissed under his breath. “Something’s gone wrong…”

That was all Merlin needed to hear before he was tearing off across the open field, Arthur’s shocked, “Merlin!” floating in his wake. Zigzagging wildly to evade the crossbow bolts aimed at him, he skidded to a halt beside a frantic Morgana, who was still trying to light the oil ditch with a flint.

“Watch out!” Merlin said as he raised one hand and whispered, “ _Baerne._ ” Morgana’s eyes widened again, shocked as he openly performed magic in front of her. Flames leapt to life underneath his outstretched palm and raced along the ditch, trapping Kanen’s men inside the confines of the town.

Moments later, they heard Arthur’s battle cry and burst out of hiding with the others to attack Kanen's men.

Chaos reigned. Everywhere Merlin looked, his neighbors were fighting for their lives. One of the mercenaries surged forward, swinging his sword as if to cleave Merlin’s head from his shoulders. He blocked and stepped back, and then cut a sweeping arc through the man’s stomach. Another man engaged him and it was only a few moments of sparring before Merlin had shoved the man's sword aside and stabbed his vulnerable gut. Merlin suddenly felt grateful for every grueling training session he’d ever endured at Arthur’s hand.

Winded, Merlin stood catching his breath for a moment, not noticing the man on horseback thundering up behind him with a mace aimed for Merlin’s head…that is, until he heard a commotion at his back. He turned just in time to watch as Will jumped out of an abandoned cart and tackled the man onto the ground, killing him with his own weapon before stealing the man’s sword.

Merlin’s face blazed with gratitude and delight as he mused, “I didn’t think you were coming…”

Will turned to him with his familiar cocky grin and said, “Neither did I.”

Reunited, the friends stood back to back and fought off their attackers.

Although Will and Merlin were able to defeat the men that had come for them, it was clear to see as they looked around that Ealdor was losing the battle. Not too many of their brethren had lost their lives yet, but the strain of battle was taking its toll. They were still outnumbered; and Kanen’s men fought with crossbows and swords, while Merlin’s family and friends mostly fought with their farm implements or sticks.

Beside him, Will had obviously come to the same conclusion. “There are too many of them.”

Merlin felt his resolve harden. This was it; he would do what he must, even though it would reveal his magic to everyone. “Not for me, there isn’t…”

He aimed his hand at his feet. “ _Cume þoden_.” Immediately, the dust and straw in front of him began to swirl until it grew into a mighty whirlwind. Raising his hand, it pushed it forward with his mind, into the fray, tossing men off horses and ripping weapons out of hands, allowing them to be overpowered.

Then, there was a terrified scream from behind him and Merlin's blood ran cold. Even while his right hand controlled the twister, his head twisted round to see his own mother pinned up against a fence by a man twice her size. He pawed at and ripped the neckline of her dress as Hunith grappled with his other hand, holding a dagger away from her neck by inches.

“Arthur!” Merlin screamed, calling the prince’s attention to his mother’s plight, but in his heart, he knew that Arthur could not reach her in time. Instead, Merlin thrust his left hand toward his mother and bellowed, “ _Hleap on bæc!_ ” closed his hand in a grasping motion, and pulled it towards himself. The man flew backward through the air, landing at Arthur’s feet. The prince wasted no time putting his sword through the henchman’s gut.

Merlin lowered his other hand, allowing the winds to dissipate. It had done its job, giving his neighbors and friends the advantage they’d needed. Many more of Kanen’s men lay dead on the ground, and those that had survived were running away.

But before the victory cry from the villagers could fully be expressed, Kanen’s incensed voice rent the air, “Pendragon!” He stalked around the corner of a fence into the main square, ripping off his helmet and tossing it aside. Arthur turned, swung his sword about in his signature flourish, and dropped into his battle stance.

The fight, as harrowing as it was for Merlin to watch, was mercifully short. After Kanen’s failed attack had left him vulnerable, Arthur speared the man underneath his rib cage, watching dispassionately as Kanen collapsed.

Incensed, Arthur stalked forward as his eyes flashed. He made a beeline for Merlin, not even stopping in his stride as he dropped both sword and shield, raised a hand, and cuffed Merlin hard across the cheek. “How  _dare_ you? How dare you use  _magic_  in front of me, Merlin!”

Merlin fell to his hands and knees in front of the prince as the pain exploded up the right side of his face, making his eyes water.

From his position on the ground, Merlin felt as if time had slowed around him. Each beat of his heart echoed slow and painful where Arthur had struck him. His mother and best friend moved at a snail’s pace, trying to get to him, to intervene on his behalf. But what Merlin saw from his vantage point made him shiver in foreboding: Kanen, with his dying strength, aiming a crossbow at the prince’s vulnerable back.

“No!” Merlin screamed. He thrust a hand forward just as the bolt twanged into the air.

Arthur, startled by Merlin’s outburst, turned to see what his manservant was gawping at. In frantic terror, Arthur watched as a crossbow bolt stuttered to a stop and hovered in midair, an inch away from becoming the mortal wound it was meant to be. The lethal arrow trembled for one moment before it dropped harmlessly to the ground at Arthur’s feet.

Slowly pivoting on the heels of his boots, Arthur turned back to stare at Merlin with his mouth gaping open. His manservant was still crouched upon the ground, but rather than hiding from the blow he obviously thought was coming, Merlin stared up at Arthur, his cobalt eyes big and round, shimmering with tears.

“You just saved my life…” Arthur said, stunned.

Merlin had to swallow twice in order to speak around the lump in his throat. “Yes…” he whispered.

Arthur stared down at Merlin for a long, long moment, and then turned his back and angrily stalked away.


	2. Wake Up Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has a few choice words for the prattish prince of Camelot.

-o-o-

 

As Arthur stormed by her, Morgana reached out to grab his arm. “Arthur…” she began, trying to calm down her hot-headed foster brother.

But Arthur jerked out of her grasp roughly and hissed, “Not  _now_ , Morgana…”

He slowed only long enough to retrieve a random sword from the ground and sheathed it in his belt as he stomped off toward the tree line.

Letting out a huff of frustration, Morgana turned and walked back toward Merlin. He was still on the ground, although he was now seated in the dirt. Hunith was inspecting the bruise already forming across Merlin’s cheekbone as Gwen knelt in front of him, holding one of his hands between both of hers in silent support of her friend. Merlin’s friend Will paced back and forth in front of them in agitation. The other villagers appeared to give the huddle a wide berth, perhaps not wanting to make the awkward situation more uncomfortable.

Merlin sat staring at nothing, his eyes unfocused and bright with unshed tears. He appeared to be shell-shocked and absolutely devastated.

Crouching down in front of Merlin, she placed a hand on his knee and asked him gently, “Are you all right?”

It took Merlin a minute to realize he was being spoken to. “I’m fine,” he murmured tonelessly, not meeting Morgana’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Will stopped and pointed an accusing finger at Merlin. “The hell you are! Bastard probably broke a bone in your face…He didn’t mind the damned magic when you turned the tide of the battle  _singlehandedly_ , oh, no… But afterward, yeah,  _then_  he decides he’s too good for that. What a fucking hypocrite!”

“Will…” Hunith warned, giving the young man a disapproving frown while she stroked her fingers soothingly through her son’s hair.

In response to Will’s outburst, Merlin folded even further into himself; he drew his legs up against his chest and tucked his head down so his forehead rested against his knees, completely hiding his face from view of the others.

Will started pacing again, using his hands to punctuate his anger. “All right, that’s it! Where is that pompous, arrogant prick?  _He_  might not be your friend, Merlin…but  _I am_ , and I’m  _not_  going to let him get away with this!”

Will had just turned away when Merlin’s voice pleaded softly, “Please, Will…don’t…”

“No!” Will’s hand slashed through the air as if its movement could cut off whatever Merlin wanted to say. “I don’t care who or what he is. I wouldn’t care if he were the bloody King of  _Albion_ … he doesn’t  _get_  to hit you like that. No one does.”

And before Merlin could say more to waylay him, Will stormed off after Arthur.

Morgana crouched down by Hunith, balancing her weight gracefully on the balls of her feet. She touched the poor woman on the arm and asked, “Is there anything we can do?”

Hunith turned her attention from her distraught son to the king’s ward. “Yes,” she replied with a fond smile. “I should really help with injured villagers, but I don’t want to leave Merlin alone. Would you mind taking him back to the house and tending to him? He should be with his friends right now.”

Morgana blinked back tears and nodded. “Of course, Hunith; we’d be glad to.”

Hunith placed a kiss on the top of Merlin’s head and rubbed his back. “I’ll be back soon, dearest. I’m sure Morgana and Gwen will take good care of you.”

Merlin nodded into his knees silently.

Once Hunith had left, Morgana slid closer, grasping Merlin’s arm just above the elbow. “Okay, Merlin…let’s get you up and inside, all right?” Gwen followed her mistress’s lead, also pushing herself to a stand and pulling on her friend’s arm.

Unsteadily, Merlin clambered up, but almost toppled over again when his vision blurred and the ground spun under his feet. Instantly, he felt two sets of hands on either side of him tighten around his forearms, steadying him. “Whoa, there…” Gwen said. “We’ve got you; just take it slow.”

Merlin closed his eyes and let them lead him where they would. It didn’t really matter anymore. While he very much appreciated Gwen and Morgana’s support, it was Arthur’s understanding he truly craved…and—based on his reaction—would probably never get.

-o-o-

Arthur paced back and forth across a small clearing about 30 yards into the forest, hacking at the tall grass from time to time with his sword.

That was a huge improvement from when he’d first gotten there: He’d been so livid that he’d taken his fury out on the side of an oak tree and knocked huge chips out of its side with his borrowed sword. He didn’t even care how much noise he was making. As far as he was concerned, the rest of Kanen’s men could come; with the amount of anger fuelling him, Arthur could have taken them out with no problem at all.

But they did not; they were well and truly gone for good. Arthur was glad of it; glad that he’d been able to help this tiny village— _Merlin’s home village_ , Arthur tried not to think, but did anyway—escape the tyranny of a man like Kanen.

_Merlin_. Arthur truly did not know what to do about his manservant…or even what to  _think_.  Everything his father had ever taught him about sorcerers had always made sense…until today. He could not count the number of times that a sorcerer had attempted to bring about his father’s or Camelot’s downfall…had brought pain, suffering and harm to others through their evil pursuit of power through sorcery.

But yet, Merlin, with all his obvious power, appeared to be content with being Arthur’s servant…and sometimes savior. He didn’t understand; there must be some angle Merlin was playing at. After all, wasn’t that what all sorcerers did?

So deep in thought was he that Arthur did not notice that someone had come up behind him until two hands planted themselves on his back and shoved him roughly.

Arthur stumbled forward several paces before he regained his footing. He swore aloud at his own inattention and then whirled around with his sword at the ready. The intruder turned out to be the young man who had refused to fight; the one who had always been the lone dissenter in any plan he’d made for protecting Ealdor: Merlin’s friend, Will.

“Sure, go ahead…strike me down! I dare you!” he bellowed at the prince, stalking forward with his arms outstretched, taunting him. “That’s what you entitled types  _do_ , isn’t it? Use us peasants to get what you want and then dispose of us when we’re no longer of use?”

Arthur thrust his sword into the ground next to him forcefully and then shoved the boy backward and hissed, “Mind your tongue! Don’t you know who I am?”

Will pushed Arthur’s palms forcibly away and laughed darkly. “Yeah, I know. You’re the bloody prince of Camelot! So what? Doesn’t mean a rat’s arse to me, because—in case you hadn’t noticed—we’re not  _in_ Camelot now. So take your damned title and shove it! As far as  _I’m_  concerned, you’re an arrogant arse who thinks of nothing and no one but himself!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Arthur yelled back, fuming at the gall of the scrawny peasant. “How  _dare_ you accuse me of not caring for others when I just saved you and your entire town from Kanen and his men!?”

Will laughed again, even more bitterly than before. “ _You_  saved Ealdor? Oh, that’s rich! Because, in case you hadn’t noticed, the person who saved Ealdor was not  _you_ …it was  _Merlin_! If it hadn’t been for the magic you so despise, we’d all be dead!”

Arthur found himself unable to speak. It was true; the tide of the battle had been turning. If Merlin hadn’t acted when he did, both then and when Kanen had tried to attack…

But Will was by no means done. “Why the hell did you even come here,  _your Highness_?” Will spit the words scornfully, full of sarcasm. “Ealdor isn’t even part of your country…unless you’re planning on annexing us now that you’ve ‘saved’ us? Are we just another playing piece in your war with Cenred, then?”

“No!” Arthur denied vehemently. “My father did not send me; he doesn’t even know I came here.”

“Then why  _did_  you come? To get your jollies on lording over people and telling them what to do and how to do it? You’d think you’d get enough of  _that_  at home, but I guess not…” Will goaded.

The words burst out of Arthur before he could censor himself, “For Merlin! I came because of  _Merlin_ , all right?”

“Why would someone like  _you_  help someone like him? He’s just a peasant…a  _servant_. They’re easily expendable, replaceable. One’s just as good as another, aren’t they?”

Arthur’s eyes bugged out at Will’s gall.  _Who did this tosser think he was? Did they just **breed**  them to be irreverent here?_ “Merlin is  _not_  just a servant to me…” he denied vehemently.

“Well, what is he, then?”

Arthur frowned, not knowing how exactly to explain his connection to Merlin. “He’s a…friend,” he said, finally, and realized as the words left his lips that they were true.

“A friend!” Will crowed in apparent disbelief. “A  _friend_? What does a pompous prat like  _you_  know about being a friend! Let me give you a little hint,  _my lord_ …friends don’t  _hit_  their friends. They sure as hell don’t leave them lying in the dirt after they just saved your sorry arse a  _second time in a day_ , either.”

Arthur bowed his head. He was not proud of what he’d done. He should not have hit Merlin like that, but it had almost been an instinct, his hatred of magic ingrained in him from birth. And, besides…

“But he’s a sorcerer!” Arthur exclaimed, as if that explained everything.

“So what? What’s  _that_  got to do with it?”

Arthur demanded sullenly, “Well, how long have  _you_  known, then? I suppose he told  _you_  ages ago…”

“I found out about a year and a half ago,” Will replied, the heat gone from his voice for the first time since he’d started their conversation. “We were messing around near the river during the spring thaw and I fell in. He used his magic to save my life…stopped time. One second I was tumbling arse-over-kettle down white water rapids breathing in facefuls of foam, the next I was on the shore coughing up river water.”

“Merlin stopped  _time_?” A shiver of recognition ran down Arthur’s spine, even while he shuddered at the amount of power one must need to do that. He thought back to that fateful night when Merlin pulled him out of the way of Mary Collins’ dagger: how one second he’d been on the staircase 15 feet away, the next, he was yanking Arthur down on top of him a split-second before the knife ran him through.

Obviously, Merlin must have stopped time _then_ , too.

“Yeah, although he told me that he didn’t really know how to do it on purpose. Sometimes it just…happened.”

“And this was less than two years ago? I thought you grew up with Merlin?”

Will nodded. “I did. He’d been able to do magic forever, but he never told  _anyone_. I doubt I’d have  _ever_  known if he hadn’t used it to save me. Hunith had drummed it into his head very early on that he needed to keep it a secret. He had enough going against him already without bringing the suspicion and fear of magic into it. It might not be illegal to have magic in Essetir,” he explained, “but that doesn’t mean that people really accept or trust it.”

Arthur’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “What do you mean? What  _else_  would people have held against Merlin?”

“You mean you didn’t know?”  Will tilted his head thoughtfully. “Merlin’s a bastard. His father hoofed it before he was even born. Hunith was known and loved here before Merlin was born and her healing skills made her necessary, so she was tolerated well, and eventually accepted again, but Merlin… Some people in town thought that because he had no father, he must have been a product of the devil.”

“What?” Arthur gasped softly, shocked and left with an ache to better understand what had happened to make Merlin leave his home and come to Camelot.

“Well, Merlin was the nicest kid you’d ever want to meet, but he was always a little bit…different. Of course, now I know why, but then…” He shrugged. “He was shunned by most of the other children. Probably more of their parents’ prejudice than anything, but…It had to be pretty lonely for him.”

Arthur understood about being lonely. His father had not been the most demonstrative of parents during his formative years and because he was the prince, other children had often felt intimidated by him. And when he was older, his so-called friends were really nothing more than nobleman’s sons trying to impress a prince. No one wanted to befriend him for  _him_. Honestly, the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend before Merlin (such as it was) had been when Morgana became his father’s ward.

“But, it never made him bitter, like it would have a lot of other people. And he never complained. He just seemed to accept it, even when shunning occasionally became name-calling or even rock-throwing.”

“How did you two become friends?”

Will smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “That’s an easy one; no one liked or trusted me, either. My father was a knight for King Cenred. When he was killed, we were left with nothing and our lowlife king refused to help us. My mum and I moved to Ealdor to live with my gran.”

“Cenred’s knights are not well-liked here, and that dislike rubbed off on me. Merlin was the only one that was nice to me. Couldn’t have asked for a better mate, though. ”

Arthur was starting to see that for himself.

“He might have a bit of a sharp tongue when he’s annoyed and he’s not the most graceful of blokes, but I have never met a kinder, more innocent soul than Merlin. He’d literally give you the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it.”

“The day you arrived in Ealdor, we had an argument; an argument about you. I thought you were arrogant and pig-headed, but Merlin defended you; he told me that he respected you.” Will’s countenance darkened. “He told me that he trusted you with  _his life_. I asked him if he’d told you his secret. Of course, by the look on his face, I could tell he hadn’t.”

“He told you before the battle, didn’t he? He told you he had magic…” Will asked harshly.

Every word felt like an accusation. Arthur nodded wordlessly; still stunned by the outright devotion Merlin must have felt to have defended him to his best friend in such a vehement manner.

Merlin’s friend started pacing, waving his hands around agitatedly as he spoke.  “Merlin has never told anyone about his magic willingly before.  _Ever_. And out of all people, he has to pick  _you_  to tell…the son of the magic-hating king. Isn’t that just  _rich_?”

Will snorted with disgust as he got right up in Arthur’s face again. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to Merlin? He trusted you and you  _betrayed_  him! You haven’t just hurt him physically; you’ve  _broken_  him emotionally.” On the last three words, Will poked Arthur in the chest right over his heart.

“I don’t know what the hell your damage is about Merlin’s magic, and frankly I don’t care. All I know is that you  _supposedly_  think of Merlin as a friend, yet you never treat him like one. And you had damned well better  _fix_ it, or so help me Gods…you’ll have more than  _sorcerers_  out to get you!”

Before Arthur could tell Merlin’s friend that a threat of bodily harm against a prince is considered treason, or indeed, say  _anything_ …Will turned and angrily walked away, leaving the Crown Prince of Camelot alone with his thoughts once more.


End file.
